


Wedding Pie?!

by HeadmasterFelix



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Fluff, Not necessarily but it can be if you want, Pie, Wincest - Freeform, kind of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-18
Updated: 2016-02-18
Packaged: 2018-05-21 09:33:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,366
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6046690
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HeadmasterFelix/pseuds/HeadmasterFelix
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean convinces Sam to pretend to be his fiancé so he can get free pie.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Sam slid into the passenger seat of the Impala and closed the door. After shoving most of the snacks in the back seat, he noticed Dean’s eyes were transfixed on something out the window.

“Dean? You okay?”

He sighed. “I wanna get married, Sammy.”

Sam hardly knew what to make of that. “Uh… okay? What brought this up?”

Dean pointed to a store across the street. It was a bakery, and had a huge poster in the window depicting a banquet of pies. A bride and groom were feeding each other what looked like blueberry. The caption read ‘Pie is the New Cake’.

Sam laughed as it all became clear. “I think you mean you want pie.”

“Yeah, that too. But man.. a wedding pie?” He sighed wistfully. “Think of how amazing wedding cakes are compared to regular ones, now make that pie. I can’t even imagine how intense that would be.”

Sam nodded in agreement the same way he always does when Dean feels strongly about something Sam can’t at all understand.

“Oh, look,” Sam pointed to another sign. “They’re having a free tasting for engaged couples planning their wedding. That’s nice of them.”

“April 13th… that’s. Fuck, Sammy, that’s tomorrow! We need to go to that.”

He laughed again. “Sure. Let’s just go to the local dive bar and find some girls to be our fake fiancées for free pie, and then _not_ get caught when they don’t know anything about us.”

“Sam…” he sounded like an idea was brewing.

He knew it was trouble but indulged anyway. “What, Dean?”

“Sam!” He was more serious this time.

“What?!” Sheesh.

“Guys can get married now.”

Sam narrowed his eyes, “What…” and figured it out. “Dean, no, come on.”

 

Dean reached across Sam rather abruptly and opened the glove box. He dug around in it briefly and palmed something before closing it back up.

“Sam.”

“What,” his voice was flat and irritated. He knew what was coming.

“Sam, look at me, I wanna do this right.”

He rolled his eyes but obliged.

“Samuel Winchester, will you fake-marry me so we can have wedding pie?” Dean produced John’s old wedding band.

“Do I really have a choice here?”

Dean shook his head, furrowed his brow, and mouthed ‘no’.

With an ‘I’m sick of your shit’ sigh, he consented. “Yeah, fine, sure. But so help me if anyone we know ever finds out about this.”

Dean grinned, already fantasizing about the pie.

“Now put that thing away. I’m not wearing it until we’re going in there tomorrow.”

Dean tucked it in his pocket, faced the right way again, and started the car. “We’re gonna have to figure some stuff out. Hey, what should our wedding colors be? I'm thinkin' blue, white and gold - like the Royals.” He pulled out and drove off. Sam gave another of many frustrated sighs.


	2. Chapter 2

“Oh, my, hello gentlemen. Are you here for the tasting or…?” the baker looked around them for any sign of female companions.

“Ah, yes, we are. I’m Dean Winchester and this is my fiancé, Sam, uh, Wesson.”

“Oh! Oh, okay, mhmm, not a problem. Just fill this out,” she handed over a clipboard with a questionnaire on it, “and the tasting will start in about 20 minutes.” She smiled cheerfully at them and moved on to the next couple.

Sam and Dean took a seat at one of the little cafe tables and Dean went to work on the form. “Okay… wedding date. Uh, June wedding, right? June 12th,” he wrote it down. “Oh, date of engagement.”

“Yesterday?” Sam was in a better mood now but he still wasn’t happy.

“Sam, come on, work with me man. We’re so close. If you ruin the pie for me now I’m gonna be so pissed,” he spoke under his breath.

“Okay, okay. May 5th, last year? Should be easy to remember.”

“Yeah, your birthday, perfect,” Dean continued to fill out the form. It was full of questions about their wedding plans. 

Soon the little bakery had filled with couples, all of whom were heterosexual and most of whom were being cutesy and affectionate with each other. Sam was uncomfortable. Dean might have been too, but the cakes were being set out and he was entranced. Finally, a four-tiered wedding pie was brought out.

“Sam. Sam. Sammy, look,” he was quiet but intensely excited.

He laughed a little, happy to see Dean so happy. “I see it. Is it everything you were dreaming of?”

“I… I think it is,” he mock-sniffled and wiped a tear from his eye. “It’s just so beautiful, Sammy.”

When everyone was gathered, each couple took a turn talking a little bit about themselves and their impending nuptials.

Sam and Dean grew nervous as their turn approached, but fuck it, Dean was committed now. When it was their turn, he did the talking.

“Hi, my name is Dean Winchester and this is my, uh, fiancé, Sam Wesson. I’m a cop, and Sammy here is uh... He’s a librarian.” Dean nodded. That was plausible. He scanned the crowd for reactions and was reminded that they really don’t look like a couple. Dean took Sam’s left hand and held it on surface of the table, rubbing his fingers with what he hoped was enough affection to sell the lie. The gold band was evident. “And, uh, we’re just really excited to, you know, be doing this whole wedding thing.”

Sam smiled, “Yep, I, uh, just can’t wait to be Mister Winchester.” Dean so owed him after this bullshit.

The event continued, and soon they were all served small plates of half a dozen different cakes. They other couples were dissecting them and trying little bits at a time, discussing the features of this filling or that frosting. Dean just dug right in.

“Dean, cool it, we’re picking out something for our wedding, remember?” Sam jabbed Dean with his elbow.

“Huh? Oh, right, yeah,” he slowed but still, cake-time was not talk-time.

Finally, after the cakes were through, they were served small slices of pie. Each tier of the wedding pie was a different size and flavor. Dean was in heaven. He savored every bite, and discussed with - well, talked at - Sam about all the things that made each one special and perfect.

“Oh my _God_ , this apple is amazing. What is that? Pumkin pie spice? With the apple? That’s genius!”

The hosting chef laughed, “Well thanks, Mr. Winchester. I’ve worked a long time on that recipe.” He smiled at Dean.

Dean smiled back, but it was not a chaste smile. “Yeah, I bet you have.”

“Uh,” he chuckled a little and eyed Dean’s supposed fiancé nervously.

“Ah, yeah, sorry, he… gets like that. With good pie makers. It’s a thing. We’re working on it.”

“It is not a thing,” Dean insisted.

“Dean, honey, eat the pie,” Sam smiled sympathetically at the chef.

“Don’t have to ask me twice!” he dug into another kind.

“I don’t mind. You caught yourself a cute one.”

Sam felt weirdly jealous and a little weirded out. This was his fake fiancé here. And also his brother. He brushed it off. “Ah, yeah, thanks, I really did, huh?” Thankfully, another couple interrupted with some valid questions.

 

Nearly two hours after they’d arrived, the tasting was finished and they headed out the door. Dean sent Sam to the car with two pies to go, and stayed behind to ‘ask for some tips’ on pie making.

Dean took ages to get back to the Impala, and when he climbed into the driver’s seat he was looking at his phone and laughing at something before typing on it.

“Wh- who’s texting you?”

“Ah, it’s nothin’. Just Clark.”

“Clark?” he couldn’t think of anyone with that name… except… “Clark the pie guy?” he was indignant but somehow unsurprised.

“Hey! He is a French-educated pastry chef! But yes, Clark the pie guy.”

"You got the pie guys number right after finishing a _wedding_ event with your husband-to-be? Come on man, that's low"

"What?! It's not like we're an actual couple. Jeez. Besides, it's just pie."

It's never just pie. Sam rolled his eyes. “Dean, just take me home already, will you?”


End file.
